


Prototype

by bagelistrying



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Are We In Space?, Chronal Disassociation, Gen, Horizon Lunar Colony (Overwatch), My First AO3 Post, Slipstream Incident (Overwatch), Tracer Being Adorable, im a little scared
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:41:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26048965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bagelistrying/pseuds/bagelistrying
Summary: A few months after the disappearance of the Slipstream jet, Winston encounters Lena Oxton.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	Prototype

Winston’s gaze flickered to the side room. A figure was just visible through the thin slot of glass in the heavy door. He strode over to it, frowning. The window was slightly tinted, so it was difficult for him to see through. He raised a fist up and knocked a few times, cupping his hand over his face as he pressed it to the gap. The figure didn’t do anything. It lay there motionlessly, but he could make out two thin arms held behind its head as it stared up at the ceiling of the room. He shifted his head over his shoulder, checking behind him. How did somebody get in? 

Rustling with the key ring at his side, he looked back up. The figure had vanished completely. He slowly lifted the key up to the door, unlocking it cautiously. Sure enough, nobody was there. All of the supplies were organized neatly on their shelves, and though some labels were askew, there was barely any evidence anyone had been there. Winston sighed, rubbing his eyes beneath his glasses as he headed back for the door. As he turned to lock it again, a bright, sudden voice leapt out at him.

“Winston!”

He stumbled back, thrusting out an arm to keep himself from falling. Standing right in the center of the door frame was a slim, young character with a disheveled pixie cut and a flight jacket. A grin grew across her face as Winston tried to collect himself, pushing the bridge of his glasses up his nose. 

”Thank goodness! I’ve been pounding on the door for hours now! Or was it minutes?” She shrugged. “Not sure, but I’m glad you’re here.”

Suddenly, an electric blue line of light slashed across his vision, and the girl was gone again. Winston shifted onto his heel to look behind him, and the figure was leisurely swinging her feet, perched atop a hydroponics tank. “How did you...” He trailed off, watching her slide off the edge and walk back to him.

“Sorry. I’ll try to stay put, but it’s hard with this... what did they call it? Chronal... chronal something.” The phrase stirred Winston’s memory. The unmistakable optimism of the girl- her leather jacket, and flashes of blue light preceded by sudden and seemingly random teleportation...

“You’re Lena Oxton.” He said, watching as she glitched back behind the hydroponics tank and immediately back in front of him. “The Slipstream pilot.” Reappearing on the other side of the lab, Lena pointed at him.  
  
“Right! That’s me.”

“We’ve been searching for you and the jet for months. Where were you?”

“I...” Lena scratched her head, now sat against the leg of a lab table. “...Can’t remember. I would have brought you a souvenir, but I’m not sure there was very much there.”  
  
“Wait, hold on. I need to try something.” He pushed the door to the side room open further and grabbed a small bag of rice off the shelves. Nodding at the girl now standing across the lab from him, he raised the bag. “Catch!” He threw the rice over to her and she watched it soar overhead. Raising both hands in anticipation, she stumbled forward as the bag sailed directly through where she was standing and slammed into the linoleum behind her. She winced as grains of rice began to spill out around her feet, biting her lip.  
  
“Sorry!”

“Just as I expected.” Winston muttered, racing to the nearest clipboard in the lab. “Ghost like properties...”

Lena gasped. “Maybe I am a ghost! Do you think the jet crash actually killed me, and now I have to relive it as a half existent being?”

Winston snickered under his breath, still furiously jotting down his findings. “I doubt it, unless you had a run-in with a certain Angela Ziegler...”

“Actually, you’re the first person I’ve managed to to talk to.” She popped up beside him, staring over his shoulder and squinting at the almost unintelligible handwriting, but pointing to a certain phrase higher up on the clipboard. One that had been printed by another scientist before Winston had arrived. “There! Chronal Dissociation, that’s it!” Her face slowly fell as she read through the rest of the notes, her arm returning to her side. She nervously adjusted her jacket, then looked up at Winston. “Um... do you think I’ll be stuck like this? Forever?” 

Silently, Winston lifted his pen and pinpointed the line that concerned Lena. He slashed across it, striking through the neatly printed notes. “No. I’m going to find a solution.” He spun the pen and slid it back into his pocket. “And if I can’t, I’ll make one myself.” 

The same brilliant smile broke across Lena’s face, and she vanished into blue light once more.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it! Just thought I’d write something chill for a first post, and I was really interested in Tracer’s backstory. I normally write more description heavy stuff, but there was a good opportunity for fun dialogue. I’ve only seen the short and not read the comics, so I apologize for any continuity errors.


End file.
